Newly born flesh, already stained with the blood of his foe, Tom Riddle emerged from the archaic looking glass that stood before him. How he had happened upon such a thing in the mystical Department of Mysteries was beyond him. But fate had sent him a gift… a gift of insight into the hearts and emotions of those he had faced or those he knew he was still to face.

The raw horror and intense emotion that these people faced was beyond anything Tom could have imagined. The depth of their fear had stretched not only through their lives but throughout generations as well. He gave a soft wicked laugh as he remembered the panic stricken looks on each of their faces.

The Riddles. Voldemort hissed as he remembered the day he stole into his former childhood home to destroy them. They had made him into a half-breed and for that, they would pay. He would show them once and for all that he was the most powerful wizard that ever lived. They cowered in his presence and Tom had felt vindicated.

Bella, his lovely Bella, so vehement in her loyalty, proud and strong…a woman incomparable. Her sister Narcissa was little more than a pretty face, she took pride in herself and her blood but did not believe as Bella did. Lucius was little more than a foppish son of opportunity, he was cold enough in his manner, but he knew that if Lucius did not find the arrangement beneficial to him in some way, shape or form, that his loyalty would not be so easily won. Right now, Malfoy valued his life so he found the arrangement very beneficial indeed. The younger Malfoy had a great future ahead of him, he was weak-minded like his father, and the promise of a little power would do very well in persuading him.

The cowards… Lockhart, Quirrel, Peter Pettigrew and Regulus. Poor befuddled Regulus. Tom had adored the day Regulus joined his ranks, a Black family member attesting to his power. But then, Regulus lost his nerve and tried to desert. He too had had to pay. Peter…the loyal servant that had more ambition and courage than Tom had ever anticipated from such a worthless man. There was, of course, Severus Snape, whose loyalty Tom was still unwilling to trust.

Tom’s eyes narrowed as visions of those who had so readily opposed him crossed his mind. The Longbottoms, Minerva McGonagall (who still thought she was above him), Molly Weasley, whose love for her children made Tom feel ill. The pesky Marauders who had spent some much of their time delaying the plans Tom had so carefully made. Lily Evans, who’s actions had been the greatest hindrance to any future he had hoped to have. He had lost so much time because of her.

Tom hissed as Albus Dumbledore came into focus. At one time, Tom had thought he had no greater enemy than Dumbledore. But Dumbledore had fixed… he had saved the Potter boy.

Those silly younger witches and wizards that foolishly believed they could save the world – Percy, Cho, Neville and Luna. Ginny Weasley, who had served him so well through his diary, would come to him eagerly once again or die as a consequence. Ron and Hermione - the asinine children who had been ridiculous enough to befriend the Potter boy – would feel the wrath of defying him.

Harry Potter. Tom’s vision of the boy was narrow and focused. Harry had once been a fascinating enigma to him. A source of annoyance and a waste of time. Over the years, though, Tom had learned to appreciate Harry for his perseverance. Harry was unwilling to give up and, for that fact alone; Tom knew either he or the boy who lived must die.

Tom knew it would not be him. He would not suffer the same fate again. Harry was a boy, and a mere boy was powerless to stop the most powerful wizard that had ever lived. The memories strengthened him and Tom knew his return was now complete.

He sighed contentedly as he left the Department of Mysteries, knowing his followers were waiting patiently to celebrate his return. He spoke quietly to himself, knowing only few remained as obstacles to his path.